Friday, August 30, 2013


Today is one of those days.

One of the days that I feel panicky, and my heart beats fast and my head starts to swim (although that just might be my head-cold talking).
The months are slipping by. September starts on Sunday, and graduation is a mere 8 months and a week or two away.

My first blog post was one day short of 25 months ago.
I had no idea what I wanted to do with this blog, how I wanted to write, or what kind of pictures I wanted to post. I debated whether or not to include the names of my loved ones, like some blogs who always call their husband "Charming," "Handsome" or simply "Husband".
I didn't post many specifics for a long time, until I realized that was stupid and the only people reading this are my family and friends.

That first post included this summary of my blog:

This is a diary of adventures. Having just graduated from college, my new husband and I are now taking on the grand challenge of moving to the East Coast. To Virginia. We are both life-long Arizonans, yet we are encouraged by our new state's slogan, "Virginia is for Lovers!"

I was cheesy (ok, I still am) and excited and expectant, as well as insecure and shaky and overwhelmed.

The first picture in front of our apartment - dad and Dusty unloading.
We still hadn't even stepped inside!
Empty - so much potential there. 
Mom and I working on thrifted furniture. 
My "Arizona window", which lasted maybe a few weeks before I killed them all.
One of the things that makes me laugh the most is trying to go back and embody that person I was, remembering all of my thoughts and expectations when we arrived. This place is going to be clean all the time (HA). I'm going to garden. I will have a window with thriving plants (now dead and buried). I'm going to learn to cook. I'm going to be fresh and fit and fancy. 
I remember feeling like creating that "Arizona window" embodied all of those wifely things, this tiny clean kitchen and this new blog. A new me was beginning.

Which was actually true - Dusty and I were talking the other day about how much we've changed.
I asked him what he thought was different about me, from then to now, and he said that I am confident and funny, that I make him laugh all the time. I've become a stronger person, despite not checking off all of those "good wife" checklists. And in the long run, I don't think Dusty cared all that much that I killed the Arizona window, because he didn't marry me because of my (lack of) gardening skills.
I can point to many things we've done well, and many things we've fallen short of, in our expectations of moving out here. We still have to work hard to keep things clean in our little place, we rescued two kittens, which wasn't in the (Dusty's) plan. It took me about two years to "finish" the guest room, and it's still a work in progress. That first year we ate out way too much, probably a manifestation of our homesickness that culminated into culinary laziness. We gained weight and stopped cooking as much, and I lost that sense of creativity in the kitchen. Taco Bell was the salve to my wounds, some of which I didn't even realize I had.
It was a mechanism for comfort, I suppose.

Some of the things we did right?

Luna Lovegood. Evangeline. Making each other laugh, being silly. Not taking law school too seriously. Intentionally becoming a part of the law wives. Making friends. Trying new restaurants. Traveling. Winter Wonderland. Summer 12. Embracing our cluttered, fort-like home. Loving each other. Starting my blogs. Putting each other first. Being adventurous. Falling in love with Virginia.

During the first month of my blogging, I wrote another post on the day my mom and grandma left.
I said,

Tonight will be the beginning of a long and wonderful three years of togetherness for Dusty and I, wherein we will be changed and strengthened and blessed by all that we encounter.
During one of my bouts of tears and sadness this afternoon, I simply said, "Well, this is the price of going on an adventure."

What no one told me was that there would be a second price.
Another time to pay up...saying goodbye to that adventure.
I know some of you may be thinking that this is way too early to be sad, way too early to start the process of preparing myself to move.
But honestly, I'm going to need every single day to prepare. I already get teary-eyed thinking about it. I suppose I never spent much time thinking about these three years coming to an end - because we had no idea what that would look like, and we still don't. There's a lot of unknowns and a lot of apprehension, coupled with the excitement of moving back to our beloved Arizona.
The problem is... I'm not wholly Arizonan any longer. I fell in love with this place and the people and the memories it holds. Our silly little apartment and our favorite haunts. I'm going to be leaving part of my heart here when we leave.
But...that, my friends, is the price of going on an adventure.
One I'd be happy to pay again and again.

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